Golden Colorado Summer
by Kat J
Summary: AU JasonElizabeth.


  
  


I don't own the character or anything else, so please, don't sue me. 

  
  
  
  


Hey all, 

I was looking through my disks and discovered this fic and realized I'd never posted it. This is a AU fic about Elizabeth and Jason. They're kind of out of character, but it's a fun little fic I thought I'd share.

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Leave it to Jason to stuff his boxers in with her laundry. He really thought he was clever, probably thought he was fooling her. Didn't he stop and think that she was the one putting them into the washer and dryer, she was the one folding them in half so the part of the words 'hot' and 'stuff' got obstructed from view and the cartoon devil was lost from sight completely. 

  
  


Jason had the most ridiculous taste in underwear. Aside from the boxer briefs he wore out, around the house he constantly strutted around in idiotic underwear designed with heart prints, smiley faces and money signs. The Winnie-the-Pooh boxers she'd given him as a joke for his birthday last year, surprisingly, he claimed as his favourite pair. 

  
  


Every once in a while, she stole a pair or two as payment for doing his laundry in the first place. He really didn't seem to mind. He might hassle her for a little while, but he really didn't seem bothered by it, especially since he got fresh clothes out of the deal. 

  
  


Elizabeth's personal favourite were ones with yellow rubber ducks all over them. Jason had worn them the very first night he moved in and those moments of guilty staring when they'd ran into each other in the hallway had been etched in her memory and so she took them as a memento when opportunity rose a few months later. 

  
  


She should get revenge. She should just throw them in his room on top of the pile of other clothes that he was too lazy to wash, but she wasn't that type of person. And besides, Jason wasn't really all that bad of a roommate. Well, except for when he used up all the hot water in the morning, or when he left toothpaste in the bottom of the sink, or when he ate her food, or...well, at least he kept away burglars and bad-boy boyfriends she was always tempted to go back to. He kept her grounded. He kept her out of trouble. Right! What he really did was keep her horny as hell, walking around in nothing but a pair of boxers and a smile half the time. Always flexing and working out. What was that about? 

  
  


Not that she didn't have her fun too. She'd caught him on occasion taking a peak when she wore one of her more informal bedtime outfits. But hell, when you got it, why not flaunt it right?

Not that she wanted Jason to really notice what she was flaunting...well, maybe she did...just a little. 

  
  


They were roommates though and therein worked better as friends and confidantes. 

  
  


She'd put an add in the paper after Leslie, the girl who she'd previously roomed with, moved to France to live with her radical rocker boyfriend. She couldn't say that she'd really miss Leslie, or those strange moaning noises she used to hear coming from her room. Well, they weren't really moans, more like chants and when Elizabeth's hairclip, razor and then toothbrush went missing she was afraid the girl was using some kind of voodoo magic on her. She had never been as clumsy as when Leslie was her roommate. Strange.

  
  


When Jason had first come looking at the apartment, add in hand, she'd turned him away without a second look...well, there may have been a second look, but she still turned him away. There was no way she was going to allow him to move in, especially when he had 'player' written all over him. She'd seen his type. Heck, she'd dated his type. But there was something in his eyes, something sincere, that made her at least offer him a second chance when he showed up again a week later when she was desperate to find someone to help with the rent that was due in a few days.

  
  


For weeks after he had moved in she used to taunt him endlessly that he must be wearing contacts, because no one had blue eyes that...well, blue. He'd brushed it off, and she found it endearing that his cheeks had actually turned a slight shade of red. 

  
  


From that moment on, they were like two peas in a pod, only breaking their special alliance for occasional boyfriends and girlfriends, whom really never mattered that much anyway. Elizabeth insisted he always went for the wrong type of girl and that maybe if, instead of sluttish, big-breasted, cheerleader types, he go for more brainy, sweet, sarcastic types, he might find his match. He'd just laugh and respond, 'then I'd have you.' Which she would curtly reply with, 'you wish, Morgan.' Then he would insist she needed to stop going to the poetic, noncommital, loner types and move on to someone who was worthy. She'd asked him once what he meant by that and he'd just shrugged it off and pulled her down on the couch, making her watch some lame hockey game until she dropped the issue. 

  
  


Yep, life was good in the Webber/Morgan camp, complete with sexual tension, a nifty set of steak knives, use of the laundry room, unacknowledged feelings and rent split two ways.

  
  


So caught up in her thoughts, Elizabeth hadn't even noticed that the elevator was open on her floor. Feeling a little foolish, she stepped out and looked around to see if anyone had caught her blunder. There was no one in sight and she silently wondered how long she'd been standing there fantasizing. 

  
  


Setting the laundry basket against her hip, she used her now free hand to open the doorknob. Immediately the loud noises of the television assaulted her. 

  
  


Taking a slug of his beer, Jason looked up and smiled guiltily. "Sorry Webber," he mumbled, fidgeting with the converter to bring down the sound. 

  
  


"No prob," she replied and adjusted the laundry basket in her hands. 

  
  


"Need some help?"

  
  


Looking at him skeptically, she raised her eyebrows. "From you?"

  
  


"Who else?"

  
  


"I dunno, it's just...aren't you afraid of breaking a nail pretty boy?"

  
  


"Pretty boy?" Jason sputtered, almost choking on his beer.

  
  


"Yeah, didn't I tell you, that's what I'm calling you from now on."

  
  


Jason stood, clad in another pair of novelty boxer shorts, black silk with a few green dollar signs spread around. "And what warranted me that title?"

  
  


"You know Stan Cashmere at twelve B?"

  
  


"Yeah, he lives with his brother, that English guy. Uh, what's his name...Ryan or Richard or something."

  
  


Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Rad."

  
  


"Yeah, that's it."

  
  


"That's not his brother."

  
  


"It's not," Jason asked puzzled. "Then who is it?"

  
  


"His boyfriend. They're gay, Jason."

  
  


Jason shook his head and finally realized why the two men always seemed to talk to him and ask him about his relationships. Frankly, he always thought their questions were a bit too personal and never revealed too much, but he was always polite. "Oh, oh. Yeah, I knew that."

  
  


"Sure," she mocked. "Anyway, that's what they call you. They think it's just a matter of time before you're marching in parades with them and going to the spa."

  
  


"What?!"

  
  


"Well, at least that's what they fantasize about. Rad's a beautician and thinks you've got great skin. Stan likes your butt, especially when you wear those black jeans with the silver buttons."

  
  


"What?"

  
  


"Well, even I have to admit, you do look good in those jeans, pretty boy."

  
  


"Would you stop calling me that!"

  
  


"Is it getting on your nerves, pretty boy?" she taunted, setting the laundry basket down. "What're you gunna do about it huh, pretty boy?" She laughed, running past him. 

  
  


He chased her down the hall, trying to grab at her clothes. 

  
  


An hour later, Elizabeth came out of the bathroom freshly showered. Her stomach was actually sore from laughing so hard when Jason had tickled her until she begged for mercy.

  
  


Reaching into the freezer, she expected to find a pint of ice cream, but it wasn't there. Jutting out her hip, she turned her gaze to Jason. "Is that my ice cream you're scarfing down?"

  
  


"Yeah, I'll get you some more when I go grocery shopping."

  
  


"Right. When's the last time you went grocery shopping. And sending your slut of the week out to the convenience store on the corner does not count as grocery shopping."

  
  


"Whatever. Why are you in such a bad mood? You got your period or something? Or are you still worried that you're knocked up? Really Webber, I never knew Jim what's-his-name had it in him."

  
  


"God dammit, you read my journal!"

  
  


"I did not!"

  
  


"Don't you lie to me Jason Morgan."

  
  


"I'm not lying. Why would I read your diary?"

  
  


"Because...because you're a guy and guys do things like that."

  
  


"Look Webber, I know you like to live in fantasy land, but this is the grown up portion of our lives. You know, the one where we don't keep diaries when we're twenty-four..."

  
  


"It's a journal. And shut up Morgan, you're the one that still sleeps with his blankie."

  
  


"It's not a blankie, it's a plain old blanket that I just so happened to have kept from my childhood."

  
  


Elizabeth rolled her eyes and stole the container of ice cream from his cold hands. "You ate the whole thing?"

  
  


"Yeah, sorry about that."

  
  


"Where you going?"

  
  


"To get some ice cream. You know, to replace the carton you ate."

  
  


"Can't you wait 'til the morning. There's a blizzard warning and the roads are really bad."

  
  


"You worried about me Morgan?" she teased.

  
  


"Nah, just saying that the ice cream will still be there tomorrow and ice cold to boot."

  
  


"Well, I didn't just work a double shift at Kelly's, spend two hours at my studio and spend my entire day thinking about it, just to wait until tomorrow. You need anything?"

  
  


"Webber, come on. Just wait until tomorrow and I'll buy you all the ice cream you can carry...with the size of you it won't be too much."

  
  


"Look Morgan, I've weathered far worse storms than this, I think I'll manage."

  
  


Jason stood, watching her progress as she zipped up her boots. He even tilted his head to the side to check out her butt when she bent down. "Fine, I'll buy you my weight in ice cream if you stay here."

  
  


"Don't worry about me. Go back to your game or whatever you're doing."

  
  


Jason stood and walked toward her. "I'm serious, Webber. It's dangerous out there."

  
  


"And I'm serious too, Morgan. Get out of my way," she said, pushing against his chest when he tried to block the door. Reaching behind her, Jason grabbed his coat from the coatrack and pulled it on. "What're you doing?" 

  
  


"If you insist on being this stubborn and going out in the middle of a storm just to piss me off, then don't think you're going alone."

  
  


"I don't need you to go with me. I don't need anyone to coddle me and especially not an overbearing, narcissistic muscle-head."

  
  


"Well, I don't need to worry about a short, tenacious firecracker, so either I come with you or we stand here for the rest of the night, until you can come up with a way to move me out of your way. I weigh one ninety, how 'bout you sweetheart?"

  
  


Elizabeth's clenched her teeth together and finally met his eye. "Fine."

  
  


"Fine."

  
  


"Fine."

  
  


"We should stop for gas, the next station isn't for awhile."

"We don't need gas."

  
  


"Are you sure? Because sometimes the thingy that tells you how full the tank is sticks so it's not always accurate. Like right now, for example," she said leaning over to look, "it says full, but it could really almost be empty. We should really stop."

  
  


"We're not stopping. There's plenty of gas. Sit back."

  
  


"Sure thing, Dad!"

  
  


"Hmph."

  
  


"You think you can drive any slower, grandma?"

  
  


"Zip it Webber," he said, tossing her a sideways glance, "and put on your seatbelt."

  
  


"What makes you think I take orders from you?"

  
  


"Humour me, okay."

  
  


"Dammit!"

  
  


"Now what, didn't I put it on tight enough?"

  
  


"No, we- shit the snow is really coming down now."

  
  


"Jason, what is it, just tell me."

  
  


"We're out of gas."

  
  


"Out of gas? Oh, so now you believe me. Didn't I tell you the thingy sticks sometimes? Didn't I 

say that we should stop. God, you're so stubborn!"

  
  


"I'm stubborn!? I'm not the one that had to have ice cream in the middle of a blizzard! Fine, yeah, I screwed up. You always have to be right, don't you? You can't just let it go, can you? God woman, you drive me nuts!"

  
  


"Ditto! And I we wouldn't be in this situation if you kept your greedy paws to yourself and didn't eat my ice cream."

  
  


"It's ice cream, Webber, it's not a life and death matter."

  
  


"Well excuse me, Morgan, I can't help it if I get enjoyment from the little things in life. Sorry I don't have this big exciting life like you!"

  
  


"I didn't mean that, okay? Jesus Webber!"

  
  


"You stay here, I'm going to walk to the nearest gas station and get us help."

  
  


"I want to go with you."

  
  


"It'll be easier if I go myself. I can get there faster."

  
  


Elizabeth looked panicked. "But..."

  
  


"Trust me."

  
  


Her voice was small. "I do, but I don't want to stay here alone. I promise to keep up with you."

  
  


"Fine, but if you fall behind, I'm not waiting for you."

  
  


"No, I wouldn't expect you to. I'm starting to think there's not a chivalrous bone in your body, Morgan."

  
  


"You haven't seen all my bones yet." He winked, very aware of the double entendre. 

  
  


Elizabeth dawdled behind Jason, catching the falling snow in her mouth and wrinkling her nose when it tickled her tongue. 

  
  


Spotting a frozen pond, Elizabeth hopped over the guardrail and stepped down the icy bank. Jason turned to ask her a question when he caught sight of her stepping onto the ice. "Don't go on that, it's not safe."

  
  


Elizabeth rolled her eyes and continued on. "It's fine Jason, the water is frozen."

  
  


Jason ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Elizabeth, just be careful."

  
  


Elizabeth sighed. "I'm always careful. Yep, that's me, Miss Careful." She slid against the icy surface as if she were wearing skates. Hopping around, she pretended she was a figure skater jumping.

  
  


Jason had had enough. He jumped over the guardrail and slid down the bank, calling to her from the shore. "Webber, stop trying to prove a point."

  
  


She didn't bother to turn around to face him. "And what point is that?"

  
  


"I don't know, that you're a bad-ass or something."

  
  


Elizabeth shrugged. "I'm just having fun, you should try it sometime." With that she jumped again and before she knew what was happening she was plunging into the icy depths of the water.

  
  


"Elizaeth!" Jason screamed, diving in after her. The shock to his system was barely acknowledge as all his adreline went into finding her. He came up for air and went back down repeatedly. The water was murky and cold as anything he'd ever felt before. Finally, he grabbed a hold of her arm and pulled her up and he led them out of the ice and onto solid ground. 

  
  


His fingers were numb when he touched the side of her face. "Elizabeth, come on. Stay with me dammit! Yell at me, or hit me...just do something, but don't close your eyes."

  
  


He pushed on her stomach and a she choked up a bit of water. Her eyes snapped open. "That's it, Webber."

  
  


"J-Jason, it's s-so c-co-ld."

  
  


"Talk to me, don't sleep. Tell me about something you like, some paintings you want to see...somewhere you'd like to be. Just stay with me."

  
  


"If I c-could be any-ywhere, I-I'd be in Co-lora-do."

  
  


"Why Colorado, Elizabeth? Come on, keep talking to me." There was a lone tear or a melted snowflake-he couldn't tell which-on her cheek and against the moonlight, it looked like a shiny diamond.

  
  


"Go-od memories t-there."

  
  


"Okay, tell me. Tell me all about it." He hauled her up and walked steadily until he was back on the road. He couldn't stop his own body from shaking, let alone hers.

  
  


"S-so co-ld." Her eyes dropped and Jason's hand touched her cheek again. She was freezing.

  
  


"No! Come on, Elizabeth. I'm not letting you give up. Talk to me." Spotting what look like an abandoned building in the distance, Jason used all of his strength to get them there and then kicked the door open with his foot. It flung open with surprisingly little effort. Jason layed her down gently.

  
  


Her eyes blinked repeatedly. "Ja-son."

  
  


"What, sweetie?"

  
  


"I lo-ve you."

  
  


"No! No, you're not doing this to me. Not now. Come on, Elizabeth. Stay with me, dammit!"

  
  


There wasn't a summer that was more magical than the one spent at that old farm house, where every morning fresh butter and blueberry pancakes filled the plates sky high, where after lunch the only way to cool off was to take a dip in the river and wade out far past the dock and stare up at the full puffed clouds, where watermelon and iced tea were necessities and boys didn't matter all that much. 

  
  


That was the best summer of her life and the last one she ever spent with her family. She closed her eyes and remembered that summer, those smells and sounds and sights of Colorado. 

  
  


She was not going to survive this unless he got her warm. There had to be a way to heat her body and get her to come around. So Jason did the only thing he thought would work. 

  
  


And so here they were in the heart of a blizzard, Elizabeth practically comatose from the onset of hypothermia and him faced with a decision that would forever alter the way he saw her. He couldn't just do this and not think of her differently.

  
  


Sighing, he dragged a hand over his face and then disentangled her body from his. He stood on unsteady legs and pulled off his jacket. Then his drenched sweater hit the floor, followed by a light shirt and then finally he pulled a white undershirt over his head. Smoothing his fingers through his wet mop of hair, he slicked back the unruly spikes and then took another deep breath.

  
  


His boots went next, and then off came his socks. He hesitated for a second on his belt. His fingers shook from fear and uncertainty. It had to be done, he assured himself as his leather belt slid to the floor and his pants pooled around his ankles. Stepping out of his clothes, he finally walked back to Elizabeth in just his boxers and pulled her against his chest.

  
  


The shock of cold against his bare flesh sobered him and his fingers trembled with the buttons on her coat. One by one, he undid the stingingly frigid buttons and then he pulled her arms and torso out of the wet coat. He took her tiny hands out of her wet mittens and massaged them in his own. They were so cold. 

  
  


A thought occurred to him, as he eased her down so she was flush with the hard ground. If her hands were that cold, her feet would be even worse. Kneeling, he slid her prized high heeled boots off her thin ankles and set them down next to him. He smiled lightly at the plain white socks with tiny purple flowers on them. They reminded him of a child. She-right then, lying there helpless-reminded him of a child. He had to swallow hard to get the lump from his throat. If she was going to die, it was not going to be today. She would live to a ripe old age of ninety, lying in bed with a smile on her face, not now, not when he was still in control. He wouldn't allow it. 

  
  


He removed those girly kid socks and rubbed her purple toes until they got some colour and though they weren't quite warm, there was at least blood circulating through them. Moving above her, he cautiously slid his hand over her jeans until his fingers found her zipper. Though he felt he should close his eyes, he didn't; couldn't. A part of him knew that the moment she woke up and found out what he'd had to do to keep her alive, aside from her gratefulness, she would be steaming mad. Where was that anger when he needed it? He'd give anything for her to just sit up and smack his hand away, but he knew in reality that was not going to be happening. And so he slid the soaked denim down her thighs and off her feet and tried not to look at those damn black panties that were taunting him.

  
  


Next came the really tricky part. He thought seeing her in her panties had been hard. After all, Elizabeth and black silk were not what he expected. But now, with his hand poised at the zipper of her sweatshirt, he knew this was going to be ten times worse. He was just hoping, praying even, that those black panties did not come with a matching bra. Once again, he was wrong. Not only was the bra the same material as the panties, but there was also the added element of breasts and cold air and...nipples. 

  
  


This was not the time to act like a schoolboy, he closed his eyes and let out a ragged breath. He would just have to deal with the fact that Elizabeth Webber was practically naked and so was he. She was unconscious for Christ's sakes! He was a pervert, he told himself. He should not be thinking of anything but getting her warm and keeping his lower anatomy cool.

  
  


Gathering Elizabeth in his arms, he pressed her back into his chest and rubbed her pink skin with his warm fingers. "Better, huh?" 

  
  


Elizabeth continued to slumber as he worked his hands over her thighs, arms and stomach until she began to warm up some. Slowly, he brought them down so they were laying and he had to suck in a breath as her bottom made contact with his groin. He was going to hell.

  
  


Elizabeth's head felt muddled with sensations. She felt warm and safe and did not want to open her eyes for anything. She smiled in her sleep and stretched her legs out languidly. Her legs grated against much larger, more muscular and hairier legs. She lifted her knee and let if fall against the other body just to be sure. Her heart began to pound as she noticed other things. A soft, musty scent. Heat on her check. Low sleeping noises, not quite snores.

  
  


Her fingers were curled into the hair at the nape of his neck and her other hand was splayed onto his chest. She could feel the roll of refined muscles there as well. 

  
  


Then the man under her stirred, running hot fingers against her very naked back and the other on the outside of her thigh. 

  
  


And that's when she felt it. Something equally hot and hard and so distinctly male, she spread her legs just slightly in response and nudged herself against it. 

  
  


An audible grunt fully awakened her and she raised her head to meet the strikingly blue eyes of Jason Morgan. Instead of a tease or taunt, he offered her a sentimental smile, but the desire--something she would normally overlook--in his eyes was not even missed by her. 

  
  


Pushing against his chest for leverage she struggled to sit up. The only effect her movement made was to bring them closer, so she could feel his hot breath on her neck and his erection clear as day against her thigh. 

  
  


"Here," he said, offering his hand. But she rolled away and landed on her back without his help.

  
  


"Be careful. You're probably still weak."

  
  


"What happened? Why are we here and why am I...Oh God, did we..."

  
  


"No." He smiled. "Though I can't stay I wouldn't have wanted to." His eyes scanned her perfect body before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  
  


Her face reddened and she closed her eyes. She tried her best to cover herself up with her hands but it was no use. "Oh, God."

  
  


"Don't be embarrassed," he soothed.

  
  


"I'm not...well, I am, but that's not why...Oh, God!" 

  
  


"Are you alright?" he asked finally finding the energy and piece of mind to sit up.

  
  


"Oh, God."

  
  


"What? What is it? Your head. Are you hurt?"

  
  


"Tell me I did not tell you I loved you last night."

  
  


An enormous smile spread over Jason's face. "Can't. You love me baby and now we both know it."

  
  


"Oh god, why didn't you let me die. This is so embarrassing, I can't believe I told you."

  
  


"Well, I'm kinda glad ya did."

  
  


"Yeah?" she asked sceptically, eyebrows raised. "Why so you can hold it over my head and tease me about it for the rest of my life?"

  
  


"Well,...there's that," he said, still smiling, "but there's also the fact that I love you too, Webber." 

  
  


"Y-you do?"

  
  


"How could I not? Especially after seeing you in black lingerie."

  
  


"Shut up and kiss me before I change my mind." 

  
  


Jason moved in to kiss her but then pulled back. "Wait! What about Jim?"

  
  


"Jim who?" she asked, edging closer.

  
  


"Jim what's-his-name. The one in the journal that you thought got you pregnant."

  
  


"Oh." She laughed and her face took on a red hue that went beyond embarrassment. "There is no Jim. Well...there was, but after the third date, I decided he wasn't the guy for me."

  
  


"So then what was all that stuff in your journal about? You said you loved him. That you wished you could marry him and have his baby and a whole bunch of other mushy stuff."

  
  


"Jason, you really are dumb. You're Jim."

  
  


"Huh?"

  
  


"What I wrote in my journal wasn't what was actually happening in my life, it's what I wanted to happen. I wrote down everything that I wanted, but since I know that you can't keep your grubby paws off my stuff I had to use an alias. So...you're Jim."

  
  


"And all those things you said about him..."

  
  


"Are what I want with you."

  
  


"Well, Jesus Webber, do you think you could have told me sooner? I've been going out of my mind."

  
  


"You're really cute when you're flustered."

  
  


"Who's flustered?"

  
  


"You are."

  
  


"Am Not!"

  
  


"Are too!"

  
  


"Alright Webber, for once you're right. I wanted to pound the shit out of the guy for taking you away from me." 

  
  


"Yeah?"

  
  


He nodded. 

  
  


There lips met tentatively. It was slow and soft and not at all what she expected. Jason was tender and sweet and kissed her deeply. And then she could feel the love; feel it pouring into her blood and filling her up. 

  
  


"Jason?"

  
  


"Hmm?" he mumbled, tugging her lip between his teeth.

  
  


"How do you feel about going to Colorado this summer?"

  
  


_________

The end. 


End file.
